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DANTE AND BEATRICE 



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THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

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MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

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THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. 

TORONTO 



Dante and Beatrice 



BY 

SARA KING WILEY 

author op 
"Alcestis," "Thb Coming of Phimbert," "Cromwell," etc. 



Ntm fork 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

London: MACMILLAN & Co., Ltd. 

1909 

All Rights Reserved 






Copyright, 1909 
The Macmillan Company 

Set up, September, 1909. Printed, October 1909 



©GLA25iG4 



THE SCIENTIFIC PRESS 

ROBERT DRUMMOND AND COMPANY 

NEW YORK 



5^ 
i 



THIS LITTLE VOLUME, HER FINAL WORK. IS A MEMORIAL 
TO A BELOVED DAUGHTER, AND SEEMS A FITTING 
CLOSE TO A LIFE DEVOTED TO THE SER- 
VICE OF POETRY, A LIFE WHICH 
ENNOBLED ALL WITH WHOM 
SHE CAME IN CONTACT 



INTRODUCTION 

EVERY commanding personality has some one 
characteristic that colours all others, permeates 
all. In Sara Wiley Drummond, ardour was this 
quality. She seemed incarnate youth, one whose 
hope, energy, and fire could not be quenched by any 
weariness, or care, or grief. One purpose bound 
together all the diverse and eager interests of her life. 
Hers was the poet's great desire, hers the poet's noble 
satisfaction. With humility she moved, as was meet 
in the follower of great masters, and yet with dignity 
as a labourer in a high calling. Not for an instant 
did she doubt her task, and into it she threw an 
enthusiasm and a courage such as are never content 
with easy achievement. 

Born to ease, she counted all the fair surround- 
ings of Hfe adjuncts, pleasant, at times powerful, 
but to be dismissed without a thought if need were. 
Her dehght in luxuries was as candid as the enjoy- 
ment of a child, her indifference to them was superb. 



viii INTRODUCTION 

She dwelt in a democracy of thought, beauty, 
righteousness. In the face of these, externals did 
not exist. To her were given those great gifts of 
the gods, — a childhood blithe and care free, a youth 
of ambition and glad endeavour, a marriage of full 
joy that closed in sorrow nobly borne and that 
bequeathed to her after years its perfect memory. 
With her own Dante she had said: 

" Courage is left, gallantly hour by hour 
To serve men and to save; the vivid earth 
Thrilling with song is left, the solemn hills, 
The restless flashing sea of fluctuant waves, 
The silver hosts of the assembled stars." 

From such a life she won an outlook sane, and 
generous, and glad. 

The intensity with which she worked and played 
gave to her accomplishment, whatever its nature, 
a speed that left the onlooker in amused astonish- 
ment. The scholarly temperament, the calm love 
of learning for its own sake, was not hers. She 
snatched her knowledge rather as the chosen men 
of Gideon quenched their thirst. Accuracy of im- 
pression and vividness of memory went with her 
strength of imagination and her instinct for essen- 



INTRODUCTION ix 

tials. For all the power of keen analysis, which she 
used upon herself after a curiously impersonal 
fashion, her point of view was thoroughly objective 
and her absorption in the matter of the moment, 
that led often to droll complications and to absurd 
misunderstandings, was an absorption not in herself, 
but in another or in an idea. 

People filled her stage, and many lives far different 
from her own, and often in strange contrast, entered 
into her experience. Sincerity and an ideal, these 
these were the passports to her fellowship. Every 
meeting with a friend was an event laden with 
significance; every new acquaintance was an un- 
charted land holding forth rich promise to the 
explorer. To her extraordinary directness of ap- 
proach even strangers yielded, knowing instinc- 
ti\'ely that behind her frank dealing lay no curios- 
ity, no missionary attitude, no search for copy, 
but simple friendliness. The openness she sur- 
prised in others, that she returned, often with a 
childlike simplicity, since, in her view, what one 
learned of life was too precious and too hard won 
to be kept to one's self. She startled the conven- 
tional mind and left it wondering what manner of 
woman might this be, clearly sincere and earnest, 



X INTRODUCTION 

who yet freely and unconsciously tossed rare posses- 
sions of thought and experience to the casual 
acquaintance. Mrs. Drummond looked to others 
only for their best, and in her presence pettiness 
was loth to show itself. The meaner strain in 
human nature, when forced to recognise it, she 
treated with an impatient distaste that robbed 
the sordid and the insincere of even sin's transient 
dignity. In the service of a friend she would spend 
her strength without stint. Yet she gave herself 
often apparently with as little thought of aid or 
pleasure to the recipient, as of her own largess. 
She gave indeed because a creator rather than a 
gatherer, because whatever she gained, she must, 
by force of her own nature, in some form put 
forth again. Her enthusiasm charged others with 
something of her own spiritual power. Beneath 
her influence the faintly known ideal took on 
grandeur and reality, and one suddenly knew one's 
self strong to attain to its stature. 

If she ever realised her effect on others it appealed 
to her rather on its playful side than as a matter 
of reality and moment. A very witch of mirth, a 
tease to the limits of courtesy, she missed a joke 
as seldom as she failed to note a beauty. She told 



INTRODUCTION XI 

a story with irresistible glee and with dramatic 
action and finish. To start a topic warranted to 
excite some member of the group, to rouse an 
opponent to fierce and futile battle, such mischief 
was to her the very breath of life. Little of this 
playfulness of temper is to be found in her writings. 
One poem, The Faun, bears in its merry lines 
an eerie and elusive quality, of which there was a 
trace in the writer's own nature. In the poem, 
however, sounds that faint echo of melancholy 
that follows hard upon our more gracious gaieties, 
while Mrs. Drummond's own merriment was as con- 
stant and as free-hearted as were her enthusiasms, 
and even in the face of tragedy her humour could 
not die. 

Broad as were her interests, wide as were her 
sympathies, she felt strongly the sense of fellowship 
in craft. Before the close of school days there had 
gathered that informal group of young writers, the 
Candidati, whose comradeship of aim and hope and 
even of disillusion has been proof against the changes 
of the years. With a steady belief in their own 
ambitions and, if not in their abilities, at least in 
their fineness of temper, they met to hear and to 
criticise one another's writings. Here, like the rest. 



Xii INTRODUCTION 

she learned the difficult lesson of taking adverse 
criticism without flinching, and here she gained, and 
here beyond measure she gave, the inspiration that 
may come from generous intercourse with fellow- 
craftsmen. No trace of self-seeking or of vanity 
blinded her to the abilities of others. Rather she 
saw these greater than they were. She pinned her 
faith to the promise when the performance dis- 
appointed, and not alone in the days when all 
things are possible, or within that charmed circle 
of daring and happy youth, but everywhere and 
with everyone, after years had taught the common- 
ness of failure, the irony of circumstance, she still 
divined brave powers in her fellows and urged them 
ever on toward a golden future. 

To her friends she dealt indeed something of the 
faith and admiration she had given the heroes of her 
school days. She was essentially a hero-worshipper, 
one whose heroes were set firmly in their places, 
and were never crowded out by later enthusiasms. 
Brutus and Cromwell embodied her love of liberty 
and her zest for action. Dante and Milton were the 
prophet-poets, but they were quite as truly types 
of the grandeur of human pain. Such were her 
chosen company and for her some kinship with 



INTRODUCTION xiii 

these great examples now and again lifted a contem- 
porary quite beyond the cavil of observers more 
critical or more influenced by those details that the 
future ignores. 

This enthusiasm for others, whether personal 
friends or historic figures, marked her writings as 
it marked her daily doings. There is a vigour and a 
scope in Cromwell, the work of the school-girl, that 
shows it of another genus than the easy lyric writing 
of verse-makers whose own emotions are the warp 
and woof of their frail web of song. In this her 
living and her writing were of one nature. It was 
the eager grasp of experience beyond her own that 
cast her poems more and more into the dramatic 
form, that taught her so brave and so fine a notion 
of the personal responsibility alike of women and 
of men for the common weal, and that endowed her 
with so wise and unfailing a sympathy. 

Nothing ever entered calmly or with indifferent 
effect into her life, and religion, always real to her, 
grev/ with her years, more and more vital to all 
her thinking. Her reverent ambition, the writing 
of a Christian hymn, was never realized, not be- 
cause she was, as she deemed herself, yet untrained 
for the high task, but for a reason deeper and 



xiv INTRODUCTION 

indeed quite other. Expression in words she had 
found a spontaneous and inevitable outlet for the 
more grave and beautiful emotions of life. Yet 
religion with her was most of all a matter of conduct. 
The inner impulse expressed itself, not in medita- 
tion, but in results; not in the inward and direct 
communion of the soul with God, but in the practice 
of mutual brotherhood. A common righteousness 
was her instinctive need. So, though more real and 
immediate to her than the incidents of daily inter- 
course, was this sense of the infinite source and the 
infinite destiny of the human soul, yet she had not 
that hunger for the direct communion which is 
precisely the inspiration of the religious poem. 

Slender and tall she stood, her head crowned with 
ruddy brown hair that waved and curled, a mist 
about her face. Her lips and eyes changed mo- 
mently with her changing thought. The rhythm of 
her tread and of her gesture was born in her, with 
her sense of the cadence of words. Her beauty was 
singularly a beauty bound up with personality, and 
seldom does human form so perfectly express the 
flaming spirit within. Intensely and completely 
one with her fellows, she yet gave, even to those 
who met her casually, a vision of a more generous 



INTRODUCTION XV 

and mightier world wherein she dwelt. When the 
word came that she, in whom life was so vivid, 
so tireless, so instinct with youth, had gone swiftly 
into the great silence, it struck with a sense of 
bitter desolation, of irremediable loss, so wide 
and varied a group as may seldom be reached by 
life of a few years and of no public service. Four 
slender volumes hold all that work in letters to 
which she set herself at once solemnly and joyously. 
Her art developed slowly, but it grew steadily and 
surely and to-day, as we read the Dante and Beatrice, 
which she laid by in her last week, we know that 
with her passing went not only a woman of ex- 
traordinary charm, but a poet whose words were of 
significance and beauty ever increasing. 

E. W. B. 



DANTE AND BEATRICE 
CHARACTERS 

Dante Alighieri 
folco portinari 
corso donati 
forese donati 

SiMONE DEI BaRDI 

GuiDO Cavalcanti 

CiNO DA PiSTOIA 

Cecco Angiolieri 

Casella 

Beatrice Portinari 

PiCCARDA DoNATI 

Gemma Donati 
Two nuns, nobles and ladies, men-at-arms and servants. 
The scene is at Florence, between the years 1283 and 1290. 



DANTE AND BEATRICE 



ACT I 

SCENE I 

Beside the Arno. 

CoRSO and Forese Donati enter, 

CORSO 

This vapouring of death that is not death, 
And hfe in love of God, will drive me soon 
To prove the body real by violence 
Enacted. Brother, I am solid flesh. 
Moved by desire and quickened by my blood; 
No moonsick musings of a virgin's dream 
Balks me of my set purpose. 

FORESE 

Nay, but,Corso, 
She is too frail a plant for rough-blown winds. 



Dante and Beatrice Act 1 



CORSO 

Let her be obedient, then will I be mild. 
I shall hold Florence yet and all this land, 
Shall I not dominate one maiden's whim 
And rule my family who rule the state? 

FORESE 

I wish that Dante stood with us — 

CORSO 

Not I! 
Another dreamer of the intangible. 

FORESE 

He is my closest friend. 

CORSO 

That is thy folly. 

FORESE 

On his strong wisdom learning, like a cloak 
Heavy with broidery, is lightly borne. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



CORSO 

Here is our cousin Gemma, out of breath. 

[Gemma enters. 

GEMMA 

My lords, where is Piccarda? 

CORSO 

Do I know? 
Praying in her convent. 

GEMMA 

Not an hour since 
She left the house in haste to follow you. 

FORESE 

Why comes she from the convent? 

GEMMA 

Make me not 
The unwelcome bearer of ill- tidings, sir. 

CORSO 

If she hath come to say she takes the veil 
It shall hang heavy with a brother's curse. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



4 

GEMMA 



Say not I told you. 



FORESE 

We will lure the dove 
Forth from her cage and in the sunny air 
Toss her to use her wings. 

GEMMA 

There is one voice 
Only in Florence, that will summon her. 
Dante can move her. Let us send for him. 

CORSO 

Many have called me honey-tongued, more skilled 
In speech than Dante. 

GEMMA 

Let us judge of that. 

FORESE 

He will take her part. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



GEMMA 

Not if I plead with him. 

CORSO 

You think you sway him when he smiles at you, 
My pretty Vanity! 

GEMMA 

He 3delds to me. 

FORESE 

He is the courtliest man in Florence. 

CORSO 

No. 
He is praised of listening ladies whom he scorns. 

GEMMA 

No, never scorns. 

FORESE 

But never follows. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

6 

GEMMA 

No. 
Here is Piccarda. She is as pale as wax. 

[PiccARDA enters, in the habit of a novice, 
with her, two nuns. 

PICCARDA 

My gentle brothers — 

CORSO 

If you seek for us 
In duty and in fit humility, 
Come home, Piccarda, but if that proud spirit 
Rule in you still — 

FORESE 

Have you forgot your sex? 

CORSO 

Silence. I spoke, the head of the house. Piccarda, 
You are dishonest. 

PICCARDA 

Sir! 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



CORSO 

You are a thief! 
A woman is the treasure of her house, 
Wherewith to purchase glory and estate. 

PICCARDA 

Dear brother, I was God's ere I was yours. 

GEMMA 

Do not be heavenly, you will anger him. 

PICCARDA 

If Dante, my dear friend, could plead for me 
He should speak silver words. 

CORSO 

Why have you come? 
I want no silver, steel is my weapon. Speak. 

PICCARDA 

How shall I tell of the far, starry hosts 
To you, whose obdurate, dull gaze is fixed 
Forever on the clods and stones of earth. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

8 

By months of passionate prayer and holy vigil 

I have come to live no more after the flesh. 

My days are consecrated and redeemed, 

My heart elate with pure ecstatic joys, 

My soul attuned to an eternal love, 

And I must wake and sleep, even until death 

With Him, my Heavenly Spouse. 

FORESE 

Where would you go? 

PICCARDA 

To veil and clothe me by the rule of Clare. 
I will not lead your life that ends in death. 

CORSO 

Death? It is death you seek, unthankful girl. 
But you shall hve, and live to do my will. 
Go to your convent. When I find the man 
Shall bring to us and you favour and wealth, 
I will hale you from your altars by the hair 
And change your sterile vows for marriage bonds. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



PICCARDA 

Lost, all our souls unto eternal death! 

[She faints. 

CORSO 

Death! 

FORESE 

Death! 

[Dante enters, crossing the bridge. 

DANTE 

Death! Who calls on death in spring, 
When every perfumed breeze gent'y calls love? 
Why breaks a discord on the season's tune, 
This keening cry of cranes that blot the sun? 
Doth any soul pass from the friendly earth 
Quitting the light for measureless grey air? 

\He approaches. 
Not fair Piccarda, loved of early flowers? 

FORESE 

Dante, she is not dead, a wind of wrath 
Has quelled the torch, it will revive again 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

lO 

The brighter, for her spirit is unquenched. 
She goes to bind herself to the poor Clares 
Against our will. 

DANTE 

As rivers seek the sea 
She moves within the encircling will of God 
That draws all wills to Him and makes them His. 
Corso, forbear. Be comforted, Forese, 
And let your little sister go in peace. 

PICCARDA 

It is not death I crave, but love divine, 
And even you, my master, know it not. 

GEMMA 

Just now she looks as if she knew as well 
An earthly love. 

DANTE 

Hush, Gemma. Messer Corso, 
Bring no discredit on your house and name 
By violence to the church. This is an honour 
To you and yours. Let her go quietly. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



II 



CORSO 



Dante Alighieri, I am not schooled 
By you, though you are learned. 

DANTE 

I am patient. 

FORESE 

That you are never. Brother, offend him not. 
Go quickly, sister. 

DANTE 

God be with you, child. 

PICCARDA 

May the sweet dew of heavenly thoughts rain down 
Refreshment and cool comfort on your souls. 

[She goes, with nuns. 

CORSO 

Come, Gemma, here the air is too fine for us. 
I would you were my sister. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



12 
GEMMA 

Sirs, farewell. 

FORESE 



{They go. 



Dreams are not dainties, I will not feed on them. 
Give me the juicy meat of passion and war, 
Delicate cakes of dalliance, foaming wines 
Of kisses; I am for joyance and quick life. 
You waste your days in a deep mystery. 
Now, as you cast those pebbles, one by one, 
They sink into the Amo and are lost. 

DANTE 

The circles break and break, running away 
Till the smooth, level river stirs and trembles. 

FORESE 

Why do the women of Florence sigh for you? 
You are the courteous Dante, I know not what — 
You draw them by a charm men cannot fathom, 
A grace of wisdom. Yet you never loved. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



^3 

Tell me the secret of your flinty heart: 

You are poor, not great, not famous, you might wed 

And mend your fortune. 

DANTE 

Can the world give more 
Than the liberty to labour and to love? 

FORESE 

Ally your learning to a noble house, 
Riches, estates, and be a prince indeed. 

DANTE 

One who had empire said nobility 

Was courteous bearing and an ancient wealth. 

FORESE 

It is to enter life in palace gates. 

To grow amid the fostering strength of gold, 

A splendid plant set in a fertile soil; 

To rest in age upon a velvet throne. 

Admired, adored and envied of the mean. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



14 



DANTE 

I think not so it is: a youth of grace 

Whose bright cheeks flush with wonder of the world ; 

Manhood, a warrior serving loyally; 

Age that rejoices in all excellence, 

A husbandman, whose garner deep with grain, 

The affluent fruitage of laborious years, 

Dispenses plenteous wisdom to mankind. 

FORESE 

Whoso hath riches holds the world in fee. 

DANTE 

Riches are base; by undiscerning chance 
Augmented, following nor wisdom nor worth, 
Bestowing not nobility; their loss 
Detracts no honour from an upright mind. 
Their growth is hazardous, possession breeds 
Mistrust and mischief, for an anxious care 
Is needful to their gain, and who is sage 
Directs his labours to a lordlier end. 
" Alas, what wretch," says old Boethius, 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

" Dug from reluctant earth these precious perils? " 

Nobility abides where virtue is, 

There is the heaven wherever is the star. 

FORESE 

You honour virtue with a lover's tongue. 
What woman makes your garden paradise? 

DANTE 

No woman, friend. 

FORESE 

Well then, what mystic dream? 
Some fancy is here. 

DANTE 

If I have never told 
Th: ough my own wish, I shall not speak through yours. 
Bicci Novello, your ill-fated Nella 
Would counsel none to wed. 

FORESE 

She is too devout! 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



i6 



DANTE 

You are a fine advocate of wedlock! 

FORESE 

Yes. 
I hold so many keys and know all wards. 

DANTE 

Hush, for there is a benison on this mom, 
The air of Eden, of the new-born world 
Scented with gracile blossoms dew-besprent. 

[Beatrice, with two ladies, comes upon the bridge. 

FORESE 

Lo, your fair neighbour, gentle Beatrice! 

You never look on women, now you are hanging 

Over the bridge to see your own swart face. 

[Dante lifts his head, Beatrice salutes 
him and passes. 

DANTE 

These are white angels, spirits of the light. 
One is the Dawn and one, I think, is Spring, 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

And she, most beautiful, is very Love. 
I could forget all miseries and harms, 
Pardon all trespasses. Humility 
Has bent me to the earth, but the pale dust 
Is sown with fragrant flowers. 

FORESE 

Even unto me 
The air grew clearer and the earth serene 
And life more gentle as she saluted us. 

DANTE 

I have seen the sum of human blessedness, 
My heart is running over with joy and peace, 
O, love and love — love! All the universe 
Throbs to the chanting of the eternal song. 

FORESE 

Dante! 

DANTE 

Earth changes. The new life begins. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

i8 

SCENE II 

The hall in the house of Simone dei Bardi. Ser- 
vants pass to and fro. Guests enter, Casella among 
them, CoRSO and Forese Donati. Dante enters. 

FORESE 

Here is the poet and the cavaHer 

Of many lyrics and of many ladies! 

I was deceived that morning on the bridge. 

I thought that Folco Portinari's pearl 

Had made you covetous, and you wrote her songs 

That set us all a-weeping. Fickle fancy 

Blows an uncertain gust on windmill lovers 

Round you swing, amorous of Lagia, next. 

Chanting her praise. 

DANTE 

Will Gemma come to-night? 

CORSO 

Two is not enough! Cry welcome to a third! 
She is here and brings Piccarda. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



19 

DANTE 



From her convent? 



CORSO 

No more of convents! She is already a bride. 

FORESE 

It was not my wish, Dante, but Corso's will. 

DANTE 

Cold heart and coward, Forese! 

FORESE 

Nay. The man 
Is rich and noble and loves her. 

DANTE 

Who is he? 

CORSO 

It is Rossellino della Tosa. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



20 



DANTE 

You 
Chose him for your advantage, yielding her 
Who is so exquisite and soft a thing, 
Into his violent and treacherous hands 
With less of hesitation or regret 
Than you would feel in parting with cold coin. 

FORESE 

But Rossellino — 

DANTE 

A bat-faced libertine! 

CORSO 

Sir, mend your speech! 

FORESE 

Remember where you are! 

DANTE 

[To CoRSo] Now may God smite you for this ravish- 
ment! 
And may I see you dragged to nether hell, 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

21 

Befouled until you lose the face of man 
And look at last the carrion that you are! 

FORESE 

Strike him not, Corso! Look, Piccarda comes. 

[CoRSO and Forese withdraw. Piccarda, 
entering, goes to Dante. 

PICCARDA 

Brother, my only brother, I am lost. 
I am damned already. 

DANTE 

Alas, poor little dove 
By obscene vultures torn! Poor frightened child! 

PICCARDA 

Because I suffer so much, think you that God 
Will yet forgive my sin? 



Do I not pity thee? 



DANTE 

Look in my face; 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

33 

PICCARDA 

Because you love me. 

DANTE 

Doth not God love thee more, pity thee more, 
And deeplier know thy gentle, sinless heart? 
There is no stain on thy white robe, Piccarda, 
And thou shalt beam a pearl in Paradise. 
Tom by man's wrath from the sweet cloister's shade. 
Thou hast not loosed the veil that shrouds thy heart, 
Thou art espoused to the Great Primal Lover. 
Thy will in union with the will of God 
Is perfect still. 

PICCARDA 

And His will is our peace. 
May God so comfort you in your sore need 
As I am comforted. 

[She goes. 

DANTE 

I could slay Corso 
With these lean fingers. He is like a cat 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



23 

That bears away a tiny piping bird 

Whose cries grow fainter as the teeth clutch in. 

[Cecco Angiolieri, Cino da Pistoia and 
GuiDO Cavalcanti enter. 

CECCO 

Cecco, your comrade, begs you, by that love 
We serve alike in rags and wrath, to say 
If I, that love and lack the gallant gold, 
May not as well go hang myself? 

DANTE 

Not so, 
Why cheat an honest hangman of his job? 

[Gemma enters. 

GEMMA 

Tell us, good Cecco, if your cobbler's girl 
Goes barefoot? 

CECCO 

It is the fairest foot unshod. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



24 



GEMMA 

Her father makes for Messer Adimari 
Egregious points, and he with toes outspread 
Blocks San Martini as he rides along. 

CECCO 

I know he makes a sharp point on his shoes. 

GEMMA 

He points thy jests perhaps with just such points. 

CECCO 

Becchina beckons me to appoint a point 
Where beak and beak may meet. 

GEMMA 

On beaker's brim? 
Your cobbler fits your wit with seven-league boots! 
Yet on the earth still must you stamp along, 
While Dante flies on wings of poesy. 

FORESE 

My merry cousin loves the solemn singer. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



25 



GEMMA 

You will see at last the current of his life 

Steal down from distant hills to meet with mine. 

FORESE 

He loves bright Beatrice. 

GEMMA 

— A mystic rapture 
Unutterable and born of dewy dreams 
Dissolved before the dawn. He will speak not 
The word that wins the heart; or he will speak 
Too late, when agony has loosed his tongue. 

FORESE 

I cannot understand. You are a woman 
Who seeks the quiet nook, the homely task, 
Nor learning, nor great songs, nor clamorous fame 
Can please you. 

GEMMA 

No, I do not care for these. 
Yet he is wine to me. One summer day 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



26 



I saw him soothe a weary Httle child 

With murmured tales; and once, beside a fount, 

Whose purling spray shivered the green and gold 

Pool, to swift silver serpents travelling, 

I heard him teach a prattling group to sing 

Ave Maria, and he smiled and praised 

Their voices while they clung about his knees. 

CINO 

[To Dante] Hail, poet of death and love! 

DANTE 

I thank you, Cino, 
For answer to my song. 

CINO 

Guessed I aright, 
That Love would have you show your lady your heart 
And therefore fed her with it who had lain 
Long in uncaring sleep, and that he wept 
Pitying her for the terrible joy and sweet 
That stirred within her bosom? 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

27 

DANTE 

I cannot tell. 

CECCO 

Then, if you cannot tell, why does your Muse 
Lead us like marshfire such a twirl of rhymes 
To plump us in the mud of ignorance? 

DANTE 

You are unlearned in love. 

CECCO 

I am sadly wise; 
When I behold Becchina in a rage 
I quail as a poor boy whose master lifts 
And flourishes a stinging rod. And yet 
I could survive without this love. I am not 
Penned in his hutch, my spirits are too quick. 
I fly from anything that makes men glum 
And carves their faces peaked. 

DANTE 

Autumn oak 
Like thine, good Cecco, changes not to pine! 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



28 



CECCO 

An overdose of love makes fools. 

DANTE 

Thy brain 
Hath yielded to a very little dose. 

CECCO 

We will not kick our nettles, brother ass, 

But save them for our fodder prudently. 

You scorn my pretty sonnets to Becchina, 

Your cockerel crows too high for such a hen. 

I am a poor devil, quick to love or hate, 

— Done with repentance, where is the good of that? 

Now, when I itch I scratch, and there is an end! — 

Hoping for idle days and merry mates. 

You bear your nose so high, I wish you would trip! 

CAVALCANTI 

[To CiNo] Present me, pray, to Messer Alighieri. 

CINO 

Sweet Messer Dante, here is a brother poet. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



29 



DANTE 

honoured Cavalcanti, this bright hour 
Shall be red-marked forever, yet not to-day 

1 greet you first; our Muses met and kissed 
Wandering together in the mazy rhyme. 
Your gentle answer to my sonnet, sir, 
Makes me your friend. 

CAVALCANTI 

Read I your riddle aright? 
I do beseech you, say it now to me. 

DANTE 

To every sweet soul that in chains doth move, 
And every presence where this song shall he, 
For the unveiling of its mystery 

Be salutation in our Lord, even Love. 

Whenas a third of the star-bright hours above 
Across the shadowy dome fled silently. 
Love on a sudden was revealed to me, 

At whose aspect my life and terror strove. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

30 

My heart within his hand, joyous he came, 
And lightly bore my lady on his arm 
Enfolded in a mantle, while she slept; 
He wakened her and of that heart of flame 
Humbly she ate as one that feareth harm, 
Then he went on his way, and going wept. 

CAVALCANTI 

Thou didst behold the sum of blessedness 
Given to men to know. Lest she should die 
When thou didst love, that righteous Lord of life 
Fed her upon thy heart. Have then no fear 
Although he seemed to go in sadness forth, 
Thou knowest in dreams we see the truth reversed. 

DANTE 

Yet there are hours when, pondering frail life, 

How brief it is, Love waileth in my breast. 

And once, by day, methought the sun grew dim 

And the delicate stars trembled and shed bright tears; 

Swift birds fell dead. And then I saw ascend 

Angels innumerable in glorious song 

That bore a little cloud, whiter than fleece. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



I heard afar long, sobbing lamentations, 

And came at last where Beatrice lay, immaculate 

And mild in death, and Death himself seemed blessed. 

And while fair ladies swathed her in a veil, 

Methought I heard the murmur of her lips, 

/ am at peace. I strove to call her name. 

And as I struggled, woke in strangling tears. 

CAVALCANTI 

Since you have spoken of her, forbid me not 
To ask if still she rules you. 

DANTE 

Yea, forever. 
Brother of mine, look on the heart thou boldest. 
I could not have rude men, inquisitive, watch. 
To mark how love assailed me, and I paled 
And tremours shook me from the very heart 
Whenas I gazed and drew life from her face. 
So, as I lately saw near Beatrice 
A damozel who thought I gazed on her 
And smiled thereat, straightway I made of her 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

32 

My screen and let men think she had enthralled me. 
Thus have I loved my heart's fill unbeheld. 

[Cavalcanti withdraws. 

FORESE 

Why will you herd with cattle like that man, 
The most outrageous of the Ghibellines 
And no fit friend for any friend of mine? 
A spiggot, a proud stick, my brother says. 
Corso has taken oath to murder him 
And any other of his company. 

DANTE 

Is this a threat, Forese? 

FORESE 

No, dear Dante, 
Only a prayer that you forsake his speech. 
He is the foremost of our enemies, 
A scoffer, and, men whisper, atheist. 

DANTE 

Good servant of the Church! My pious friend! 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



33 

FORESE 

I am no saint, but yet no heretic. 

He walks at eventide among the graves 

Behind the Baptistry, saying strange words, 

Blasphemous, touching our immortality. 

Such men as he should burn here and hereafter. 

DANTE 

He is a poet. 

FORESE 

That is no praise to me. 
It is an injury to our close love 
For you to turn and follow troubadours. 
I will not hear you say you are a poet, 
Who could be formidable and supreme 
In state and camp. Leave word-plays to the weak. 

DANTE 

Now you are blasphemous. I do not wish 
For other laurels than the poet's bays. 
A wondrous tremour shakes me from the heart. 
My senses sink. I live within my eyes. 

[Beatrice enters with Portinari. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

34 

Lo, how she beams above the sombre world 
Like a pale star set in the purple sky, 
Or like a lily on a dusky lake! 

FORESE 

Men press to gaze upon her, and all speech 
Trembles to silence, every glance abased 
Before her purity. She walks serene 
Haloed and garnlented with humbleness. 

DANTE 

When I behold thy face. Puissant Joy, 

My thoughts break with the exultancy of love. 

[Beatrice passes. Dante bows before 
her, but she does not return his salutation. 

DANTE 

Ah, God of Mercy, she denies me blessing! 
Take me away, my frail soul faints in me. 

FORESE 

Nay, die not yet, sweet Dante, not of this. 
Die in ripe years of fever or the plague. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

35 

In lusty youth smiting a mighty foe 

Fall gallantly, but never faint and fail 

Before a maiden's little frown, or I 

Shall die a-laughing. Hold thy head up, man! 

PORTINARI 

Give me your arm, my daughter, I must rest. 
My breath comes like a stag's pursued by hounds. 

[He sits. 
Young Dante wrote fine verses to you, girl. 
And will you not salute him who so loves you? 

BEATRICE 

Does he so love me, sir? He praises Lagia, 
Until men talk of it past courtesy, 
And she is sore distressed. 

PORTINARI 

I am content. 
Poets are as fickle as the sweet airs of song. 
They string their lutes with many an idle love. 
Yet be not cruel. Should the sun not shine 
Because the nightingale praises the moon? 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



36 



BEATRICE 

I know that Dante loves me; I rebuked him 
Because he does not well to trouble Lagia. 

PORTINARI 

That is no near concern of yours, my child. 
Come here beside me. Let us speak awhile 
Of Dante, whom your scorn makes miserable. 
For I have feared that love of poesy 
And all such sweets and trifles, drew you on 
To over-pay a thousand-fold those rhymes. 
You have discernment; who is always wise? 
Trust me, my dear, I would not do as some 
Thrifty, who profit by their beauteous daughters. 
You shall be happy. I will seek your choice 
As far as loving wisdom may permit. 
Nor force your inclination. As for Dante, 
I have inquired of him. He is not for thee. 
What hath he done to merit such a crown? 
Men of his age have been renowned in war. 

BEATRICE 

He is a poet, sir. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

37 

PORTINARI 

You are a dreamer! 
Will singing feed you sweet and clothe you soft, 
As you are accustomed? He might turn his rhymes 
And yet be illustrious, as some have been. 
His life drifts onward, a meandering stream 
That dallies through low meadows, wanting urge 
Of valiant rivers plunging to the main. 
I value high emprise of poesy. 
Were he ten times a poet, yet a man 
That thou couldst trust safely to care for thee, 
Still shouldst thou have him, dearest Beatrice. 
I love thee past the love of any man. 
Lover or husband. Do I not wish thy joy? 
Would I not buy it with my reddest blood? 

BEATRICE 

Father, my days have been all sunshine. 

PORTINARI 

Sweet, 
I love thee far too well to see thee suffer. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

38 

I must protect thee from thine innocent self. 
Let me judge for thee. Am I not reckoned wise? 

BEATRICE 

Most wise, most generous. 

PORTINARI 

Then trust to me. 

BEATRICE 

Did you not wed for love? 

PORTINARI 

Yea, for great love. 
And found great happiness. 

BEATRICE 

Then is not love 
The road to happiness? 

PORTINARI 

A love like ours, 
Mine and your mother's: but this is not so, 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

39 

This is pure fantasy of two wild brains. 

You must have merry days. Behold that face! 

Could he be ever cheerful? 

BEATRICE 

He has wit. 

PORTINARI 

It may be so: but has he happiness? 

I tell thee that his face is marked for sorrow. 

He will suffer always. 

BEATRICE 

Who shall comfort him? 

PORTINARI 

Alas, poor pitiful child, what could you do 
But wreck yourself upon a rocky fate? 

[Gemma and other ladies approach. 

GEMMA 

\To Beatrice] You have slain him by your cold- 
ness. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



40 

FIRST LADY 



Like a bow 
His mouth curves downward as you draw the string. 



SECOND LADY 

For all our sakes, one glimpse of April sun 
On Dante, to dispel the thunder- cloud 
Before the cream within the larder sours! 

GEMMA 

Dante da Majano has sent a song 

To Messer Alighieri on his dream: 

He begged him to take physic and seek out 

A leech to cure him of his malady 

Of nightmare. And I thought it sage advice. 

FORESE 

They are all mocking you. Beatrice laughs. 

DANTE 

No man was ever stricken as am I. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

FIRST LADY 

Dante! 

DANTE 

What would you of your slave, Madonna? 

FIRST LADY 

Why lovest thou this lady and canst not suffer 
Even her presence? I pray thee come and tell. 
Certes, the wish of such a love is strange. 

DANTE 

O ladies mine, in her sweet salutation. 

The goal of love and my beatitude, 

Lay the fulfillment of desire, but since 

She who is ever of a courtesy 

Ineffable denies it, Love, my lord, 

Hath placed my blessing where it cannot fail. 

FIRST LADY 

Alas, what sorrow is his! 

SECOND LADY 

What love he bears! 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



42 



THIRD LADY 

Woe is me, I would one loved me so. 

FIRST LADY 

Beseech thee, 
Tell us, wherein abideth now thy blessing? 

DANTE 

Even in these words of mine that honour her. 

THIRD LADY 

If this were so then wouldst thou speak and praise her. 

DANTE 

Ladies that have intelligence of love. 

Whose graciousness constrains my burdened heart 

To rise and flow as the moon lifts the sea, 

I may not fitly praise the lady I love. 

It is a theme too lofty. When I muse 

Upon her virtue, love such sweetness sheds 

About me, that my blossoming songs are closed. 

If I should speak aU men must turn to love. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



43 



GEMMA 

Love and the gentle heart are the same thing, 
Therefore we join with thee to honour her. 

DANTE 

As crystal dew ascends to meet the sun, 

So might the beams of heaven withdraw her soul. 

An angel in celestial wisdom prays, 

" Lord, on the earth a radiant miracle 

Shines even to us, and every saint implores 

Her spirit to complete the bliss of heaven." 

FIRST LADY 

Dante, pray thou that she abide on earth. 

SECOND LADY 

God will have pity on thee who dread her loss. 

DANTE 

Should I descend to hell, I yet could say, 

*' I saw the hope of those that dwell in bliss." 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



44 



GEMMA 

A fragrance breathes about her on the air, 
And when we look upon her perfect face, 
Modest and winsome, unaware we sigh. 

FIRST LADY 

Beauty is proved by her. 

THIRD LADY 

How chanceth it 
That mortal thing should be so undefiled? 

DANTE 

Go with her, each of you who would be blessed, 
For where she passes evil shrinks rebuked. 
And all uncomely thoughts are frozen and chilled, 
As noxious weeds beneath the silver snow: 
Whoso can look upon her loveliness 
Must either be ennobled or else must die. 

\The ladies pass, Gemma remains. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



45 



GEMMA 

You are like a pilgrim seeking through the hills 
Amid sharp cold and over the steep stones 
A flower inaccessible; in warm valleys 
The plentiful roses flush and fade ungathered. 

DANTE 

The eagle soars against the burning sun 
A wanderer and a warrior of the sky, 
Not long he crouches in the swapng nest, 
His pathway is beyond the eternal snows 
In crystal air. 

GEMMA 

Some day his wings will weary. 

FORESE 

[To Dante] I will go to her and plead for thee. 
Take heart. 

[He crosses to Beatrice. 
Madonna, beauty should be merciful, 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

46 

May not poor Dante come and speak with thee 
And be forgiven? Almost he faints for grief. 

[SiMONE DEI Bardi enters. 

PORTINARI 

[To Beatrice] There is a man whose heart is Hke 

a fount 
Of sunht waters, plenteous and clear, 
And well he loves you. Mark how men salute him. 

SIMONE 

Incomparable Beatrice, I see 

No face but thine; thy brightness dims the throng 

As the fair moon subdues the twinkling stars. 

FORESE 

Will not the queen set free her prisoner 
In honour of this feast? 

BEATRICE 

Bid Dante come. 

[Dante approaches. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



47 



SIMONE 

Welcome, Sir Poet! I have read your songs 
And liked them well. 

DANTE 

You are most complaisant, 
Messer dei Bardi. [To Portinari] I salute you, sir. 
[To Beatrice] Madonna, is it your will I speak with 
you? 

SIMONE 

Let us withdraw; the poor soul is distressed, 
Tongue-tied before us. Cruel Beatrice! 

[FoRESE, SiMONE and Portinari withdraw. 

DANTE 

If thou shouldst know my state thou wouldst not 

mock 
With other ladies; rather, pity me. 
Madonna, Love himself will plead my cause 
Saying, " His faith is firm, early was yours, 
And never faltered. If his humble prayer 
For grace displeases you, command him then 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

48 

To die, and your poor servant shall obey." 
I am blind, bewildered, stricken. Give me hope! 
A blighting frost blackens and bows to earth 
My every flower. 

BEATRICE 

You are forgiven, sir. 

DANTE 

Most blessed lady, in whom alone love dwells, 
Thy healing mercy hath assuaged my pain. 
Surely love pleaded for me while I wept. 

BEATRICE 

I would have you be as great as God hath willed. 
And therefore can I not endure a stain 
Upon his glorious handiwork. 

DANTE 

Tear forth 
Anything in me that offends, though life 
Run from the wound. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

49 

PORTINARI 

You are wise, though young, Simone. 
I long to rest and think the world of men 
Well-doing and gentle. I would live at ease 
And have no shocks nor changes. Weariness 
Is the dull opiate of cunning Death 
To numb the victim. I must think and act, 
Nor sleep before my night while work is to do. 
I know you loved your sister. In her marriage 
Has she found joy, and did she choose to wed? 

SIMONE 

Surely, good Messer Folco, she is happy. 
You could not th'nk I asked a maid her fancies? 
Women have less than we of strength and will. 
It is ours to shelter them, to smooth their path, 
To guide them steadily. 

PORTINARI 

True; but with love. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



so 



SIMONE 

The love that rules and cherishes. The maid 
Whose musing soars not past the broidered scene 
She fashions and deems life, quits not her father 
Till her strong husband lifts her o'er his threshold. 
The hearts of women are our sanctuary, 
We seek the perfume of the sheltered close 
From dust and rain and lightning on the road. 

PORTINARI 

You are as sage as men have reckoned you, 
Yet sometimes when my Bice reads, and lifts 
Her eyes, thought-lit ten, murmuring great words 
Of ancient song, I doubt my mastery. 

SIMONE 

She dwells in heaven and no rude voice of earth 
Should break upon the music echoing there. 
You do not think that she could choose a spouse 
By any precept learned in Paradise? 
We know what all men are — the best — but she 
Must think no evil or our joy were lost. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

She is submissive and her heart will follow 
Where you have chosen. 

PORTINARI 

You are young, Simone. 

DANTE 

[To Beatrice] Your smile is light that shining from 

within 
Illumes the windows of your happy eyes. 

BEATRICE 

I have lived like a flower blown in the sun, 

Yet the wind whispers of the distant waves, 

And the stars beacon to mysterious skies: 

For I will tell you of my solemn dreams 

That hand in hand with God I serve His world; 

Faithful I labour at the lesser things 

Of woman's work, but my dream is to serve, 

Not when I sit and weave among my maids, 

Not when I smile and pass through crowded ways, 

But with the giving of my eager heart 

The life of me, the spirit I had from God. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

52 

How shall I find the way? You only know — 
You are not as other men. There is in you 
A splendour of purple hills that touch the sky, 
A vastness like the spaces of the sea. 

DANTE 

Thou liftest up thy mouth for bread of angels, 

Earth cannot satisfy nor earth retain 

Thy spirit; thou shalt tread the path of stars 

Amidst the music of eternal joy. 

None unrewarded ever prayed to serve 

The needy world. Thou shalt restore our faith. 

Pure, beaming mirror of celestial light. 

Beholding thee men are aware of God 

Who only could have made thee as thou art. 

BEATRICE 

speak to me of yourself: you shall be famed. 

DANTE 

Seldom are gathered from Apollo's tree 

The leaves wherewith my temples shall be crowned, 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

53 

There in my beautiful San Giovanni 

Within the ancient Baptistry, where once 

My hfe was given to Christ. I shall not lose 

In earth's dim labyrinth the love of Him. 

Holding that golden clue my steps may pass, — 

Leaving the camps of Guelf or Ghibelline, 

Contemned, reviled, perhaps by foes cast forth, — 

To abandon all I cherish, and to know 

How salt doth taste another's bread, how steep 

The passage up and down another's stairs: 

Driven to seek a refuge in the wilds. 

To toil by narrow cleft and precipice, 

Sheltered in caves, and crouched on frosty turf; 

Amidst the nests of vipers and the dens 

Of unclean beasts of prey my nights may be. 

Albeit I set me square against the stroke 

Of fortune, and my cry shall be a wind 

Smiting the loftiest summits. Unafraid 

I shall endure all things, if so I serve 

My beauteous Florence, glorious child of Rome. 

And that great nation that shall be, come down 

Like New Jerusalem, sceptred and crowned 

With lilies, robed in silver, and adorned 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

54 

With ornaments of gold, shall honour me 

Forever and forever — make my name 

One with those names that beam as the fixed stars, 

For mito me is given the power of God, 

To mould a world that of itself lives on. 

And I shall shed my blood to make men strong, 

Breathe in their nostrils my immortal spirit, 

Make them the heirs of the rich heritage 

Of wisdom purchased by my agony. 

For what is my ambition? Not for that 

Grasped by the hand or visible to the eyes. 

I shall interpret the marred manuscript 

And ancient signs of man's mysterious heart, 

And at the centre of the universe 

Show him Primaeval Love toward which he moves. 

The power descends, my veins are sluiced with fire, 

My labouring heart pants to break through my flesh: 

This is the thirst that parched lean Caesar's lips, 

Wrung Alexander's tears, slew Socrates; 

This is the rowel to the speeding horse 

That forges toward the goal; this is the cup 

That scatters fervid poison and honey-dew! 

The tinkling coinage of my trivial days 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

55 

I will scatter like a largess at the feet 
Of destiny, if I may speak and live. 

BEATRICE 

May the proud spirits of the glorious dead 
Companion thee, and fill thy soul with song, 
Investing with their vanished potency 
The mind that follows the immortal train, 
Hallow and liberate thy struggling heart, 
Rouse thee to courage and to constancy, 
Blow like the wind that quickens burning coal 
Till that great flame, the love of beauty, rise, 
Consume thy dross and leave thee child of God. 
And let me serve thee any v/ay I may. 
Art thou so far above thou canst not hear? 

DANTE 

Most beautiful, you are with me now and ever. 

[Music. 
The music floats above the clamorous hall, 
A gentle angel breathing benison. 
Hark, to the call of the clear viol! — Now 
Accord and blend the sweet, united strains. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

56 

They will declare what tongue hath never told, 
And my lips long for, never to attain, 
Because it is a word of heaven, that earth 
Hears echoing beyond, and shall not speak 
Till mortal reaches immortality. 

BEATRICE 

The melody passes; a summer breeze 
Bending the wheat in undulant, long lines. 
Pauses in sudden eddying and sweeps on. 

SIMONE 

[To Casella] Messer Casella, will you charm our 

ears 
With the joy of music? 

CASELLA 

Gladly, at your pleasure. 
(Sings) Love tn my mind a mighty music wakes, 
And yearning unto him my voice I raise 
Impassioned to declare my lady^s praise. 

^Mid mystic measures intricate and sweet, 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 

57 

My dazed thought its perilous passage lakes, 
Rapt into rare and unaccustomed ways; 
Alas, my stricken sense no strength essays 
To attain and lay my worship at her feet. 
For who shall soar on seraph pinion fleet 
Weighted with clogs of dull humanity? 
Through mortal lips the vision of blessed eyes^ 

Seek to immortalize, 
A beauty unbeheld of all that see? 

Let censure fall alone on my oblation, 
Whose rhymes reach not my lady^s high degree. 

For mtnd is sunk in spirit's adoration, 
And speech may never with such influence move 
As shall command the harmonies of love. 

DANTE 

This is a prelude of a song to be 
Wherein I set a crown about my brow 
In honouring my friend, for Hke loves like. 
Love is a glory bright through every veil, 
Love is a song that thrills the silent air, 
Love is a spring that overflows the shores, 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

58 

Love is a fire consuming barriers, 

Not to be stayed, nor silenced, nor concealed; 

My face and life display it, and so, my song. 

Still is unutterable the exalted theme — 

The mystic union of the aspiring soul 

With the beloved, yearning unto her 

Whose radiance rains flamelets like the sun 

Cheering the heaven: and though this passion rose 

Contemplative of living loveliness, 

Yet is she symbol of that heavenly wisdom 

Sent us by Christ, who gave therewith His peace. 

PORTINARI 

Let us return, they have talked long enough. 

[FoRESE joins them as they return to 
Beatrice. Dante crosses to Casella 
and Cavalcanti. 

DANTE 

Casella mine, I take thee to my heart, 
Thou stillest all desire. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



59 



CASELLA 

I love thy song. 

PORTINARI 

[To Forese] This Messer AHghieri is your friend? 

FORESE 

Since many years, but for how many more 

I dare not say. You and I, Messer Folco, 

Are men of reason, that man is a poet 

And so, forsooth, would turn aside from us 

To choose strange company; nor be content 

With generous earth, but struggle up toward heaven 

A pitiful inch beyond us, or dive down 

Some way toward hell, or pry beneath men's lids 

Haply to spy their souls. We see enough 

In the bright visible world we tread, say I, 

Enough to touch and seize and feed upon. 

But poets are all moods — like a wild day 

That storms, shines, blusters, woos, all in an hour. 

I am out of patience with him — yet I love him. 

[He goes. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



60 



PORTINARI 

[To Beatrice] You hear: and this man is his closest 

friend! 
Our host entreats your hand to open the dance. 

BEATRICE 

I do not wish such honour. 

PORTINARI 

Take his hand 
And take his heart, my child, this is the man 
Whom I would see you wed. Start not away 
With such a glance of terror, like a fawn 
Quivering at gaze before the hounds. Dei Bardi 
Loves you and says he loves you; comes to me 
With honourable words seeking your hand. 
This Dante writes a mystic rhapsody 
Sometimes of you, sometimes of other loves. 
He woos you in an idle dalliance, 
But never asks in sweet solemnity 
For leave to love and serve you all his days. 
He is a man of words, that other of deeds. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



You cannot spend long life of suns and storms 
Beneath the vault of heaven, high over men, 
Poised on an altar breathing heavy scents. 
Invoked by music and adoring prayers, 
You must be sheltered by a solid roof, 
Fed, comforted, sustained by homely things. 
Take love upon a glowing, happy hearth! 



BEATRICE 

I cannot, sir. 

PORTINARI 

Nay, Beatrice, you shall. 
I have always cherished you, you could not know 
How the world is, unsheltered and alone. 

BEATRICE 

Alone! 

PORTINARI 

My cup of life has brimmed with good, 
Now, Justice beckons me to quit the feast. 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 



62 



BEATRICE 



Speak not in riddles, father, for my ears 
Hear only ringing terror. Are you ill? 



PORTINARI 

I had not thought to tell you, but, alas. 
You crowd me to the leap. Beloved child, 
A mortal sickness preys upon my frame. 

BEATRICE 

No, no! 

PORTINARI 

There yet is time for deeds of love, 
But I must see you safe before I die. 
Simone is a wise and upright man. 
He serves the state, he does not shrink and pine 
And whistle tunes, but takes his sword in hand. 
And drives the enemies of Florence forth; 
Grieve not for me. I shall live long enough 
To see you happy. Take Simone's hand. 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



63 



BEATRICE 

Some charlatan has told you ominous things, 
For profit to himself. 

PORTINARI 

Go to the dance. 

BEATRICE: 

You are obeyed, sir. When we are alone 

I must know everything about yourself 

And why these fears and fancies come on you. 

SIMONE 

The music trips and pulses on the air 
Like flitting feet alluring to the dance. 

[Beatrice gives him her hand. As she 
passes Dante, she speaks to him aside. 

BEATRICE 

You are the lover of Florence; therefore go 
And battle for your lady in the lists, 



Dante and Beatrice Act I 

64 

The clarion blows, the lance is set in rest, 
Deeds and not songs are needed. 

[She passes. 

DANTE 

I will go. 
spirit of joy, whose light is blessedness, 
Thou art the star that rules my destiny! 
Upon the dark and troublous waves, where foam 
Flutters from curling crests, thy silver thread 
Trembling across yet guides along the deep. 
Our souls are wed and I obey thy will. 
Sweet smiling eyes, ye have redeemed my world! 
I am made one with all warm, human things. 
Not lonely now, not separate nor estranged, 
For every tear that falls shall stain my cheek, 
And every throb of passion shake my heart. 
(To Forese) Let us set out for camp. 

FORESE 

A miracle! 



Act I Dante and Beatrice 



65 



DANTE 

I can sweep circles with the sword in air 
Swift as a penstroke. And my feet are set 
Upon a path where there is no returning. 
Now use me for the trumpet of thy might, 
Wind of the spirit — blown beneath the stars! 



ACT II 

SCENE I 

Beside the A mo. 
Enter from opposite sides Dante and Cavalcanti. 

CAVALCANTI 

All hail, my Dante, poet, conqueror, 

Is it not enough to take Apollo's lyre. 

But you must strip as well from Mars his sword? 

DANTE 

My plunder is a myth, my friend of friends! 
How goes your Muse? 

CAVALCANTI 

She halts on tardy feet 
Waiting to dance with thine. 

DANTE 

Is all well here? 

66 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



67 



CAVALCANTI 

Fair Florence is beset; 
A princess, girt with suitors cruel and base 
That seek not love but gain. 

DANTE 

And you yourself? 

CAVALCANTI 

Corso Donati clamours for my life, 
Dogging my footsteps with his hangers-on. 

[Men enter at hack, Corso with them. 

DANTE 

Who are those men beyond? 

CAVALCANTI 

I know them not. 
Let your sword rest! I heard at Campaldino 
You led the van, shouting heroic words 
That drew men after you to victory. 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



68 



DANTE 

I had much fear at first. The Are tines, 
I mean the GhibeUines (some Aretines 
Stood with us) but the men of Tuscany, 
Routed the squadron of our cavahers, 
Pursuing them, parted their horse and foot. 
Which we, united, one by one o'ercame. 
Vieri de' Cerchi with me volunteered 
Among the vanguard. Fleeing o'er the plain 
I saw Buonconti, him of Montefeltro, 
Pierced at the throat and bloodying the ground. 
Let us not talk. There is a creeping throng, 
A colony of rats from cellarways. 

CAVALCANTI 

Yea, they are Corso's men and there he lurks 
Black in the shadow of the wall. And you 
Are Guelf and must not fight against your own. 
Then leave me. 

DANTE 

Guido, are you not my friend. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 

69 

Yet think so slightly of me? Man, stand back, 
Or die on Dante's sword! 

[They all engage, 

CAVALCANTI 

We are overmatched. 



DANTE 

Not ten to one can overmatch me. 

CAVALCANTI 

Fly, 
And save yourself, sweet Dante! I am done. 

[He falls. 

DANTE 

Corso Donati! Cease! Draw off your men. 
You shall not quit them; I will stop you, Dante, 
Dante Alighieri! You defile 
Our cause! You listen now. Be not like wind 
That fans and coaxes every smouldering gleam, 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 

70 

But quell contentious factions as soft rain 

Stifles quick scattered sparks. Then peace will come 

To bind fresh olives round our Lady's brow. 



CORSO 

[To Dante] Poets enough are left, yet you shall 
live. 



DANTE 

I have not asked my life of you or any, 
I say, you take a way to sure defeat 
Of all things noble. 

CORSO 

[To men] Why do you hesitate? 
Make way to Cavalcanti. 

DANTE 

Across me first! 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 

CORSO 

Fool, do you seek for death? 

DANTE 

I shall not stir. 
If death be seeking me, he will find me here! 

CAVALCANTI 

Nay, Dante, let me die, for you must live. 
You are most precious — 

DANTE 

Peace, my chief of friends! 

CORSO 

[To Cavalcanti] Guido, I spare you for the nonce, 

slip off! 
You poets have as many lives as cats! 
And if we kill you, yet you live in rh5niie! 
But think not, Dante, that your eloquence 
And lofty reasons moved me to this mercy — 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 

72 

Because Piccarda loved you, have your way. 
Another time, Guido, another time! 

[Cavalcanti goes, Forese enters. 

FORESE 

Dante, now welcome, comrade. 

DANTE 

You as well 
Weep at the sight of me! On Corso's cheeks 
I saw salt drops make unaccustomed way! 

FORESE 

She is dead! Our little sister whom you loved! 
Speak not of her — she is gone! 

CORSO 

She was perverse, 
In death even as in life — she pined at will 
And died when she could serve us best — 

[He goes. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



73 



FORESE 

Anon he rails at her and then he weeps! 
Curses and broken words of tenderness 
Mix on his lips, yet now, because she loved you 
Spared his arch-enemy to save your life. 

DANTE 

Strangely love wills that life is bom of death! 
What is this death? We shrink and turn aside 
At mention of his name; strive to escape, 
And feel him touch our elbow; to forget, 
And sudden we see the shade cross a loved face 
Blighting its bloom. — Let me not think of death, 
Lest he come with the thought. 

FORESE 

You fear to die. 

DANTE 

Hourly I fear lest Beatrice should die. 

When a sweet maiden dies my heart is shaken, 

Thinking how frail a casket holds my gem, 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



74 

And visions come, a wailing in the night, 
White and dishevelled women blown about, 
Like torches wandering in the wind and rain. 
There looms a shrouded presence by my bed 
Upon whose dreadful brow is written, Fate, 
And its face is in shadow. 



FORESE 

Didst thou hear 
That noble Portinari is no more? 

DANTE 

I heard it yestereven as we rode in. 
To-day my heart has watched with Beatrice, 
Seeing her gracious countenance bowed low, 
Wet with the tears of love, hearing her voice 
That is so dulcet, broken with her sobs. 

FORESE 

Your fond imaginings have made you weep, 
Take your hand from your eyes. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



75 

DANTE 



Her sorrow is mine. 



FORESE 

Then you were told of Portinari's death, 
And no more news of Beatrice? 

DANTE 

No more. 
I go to seek her now. Here is a verse 
I wrote of her good father. 

FORESE 

Pause awhile. 

DANTE 

I must be gone. Above Fiesole 

There hangs a purple cloud that pulses flame, 

The low-browed hills are ominous, the earth 

Has caught its breath, suspense impends and broods. 

I am uneasy. Here the hoof-beats ring 

Along the street beyond, each little noise 

Appals the straining senses. 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



76 



FORESE 

Go not yet. 

[Cecco enters. 

CECCO 

Oh^! I am in the heart of the labyrinth 

And here is the roaring minotaur! I think 

Some fool has dared to criticise your lays. 

Poor Cavalcanti met I limping home, 

And Baron Corso kicking at his men, 

And here is Forese quaking in his shoes, 

So every leg is quivering to your strains. 

Last night beside his anvil the poor smith 

Warbled your sonnets, smiting merrily. 

You burst upon him, cast the hammer and tongs 

Into the street and bent them — 



DANTE 

Marring them. 
Because he marred my implements, my songs. 
He changed the words to suit his villain tunes. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



77 



CECCO 

I applaud the valiant deed though not the cause — 

What matter, so we fight and please ourselves! 

Hit every head you see and soon there is sport, 

The dullest clodpate smartly buffeted 

Is valorous. Not the noblest battle hymn 

Inspires to combat like a well-set blow. 

If I were Pope I'd set the Church by the ears 

And never rest till every Christian fought. 



DANTE 

Be silent, Cecco, impious buffoon! 
Let be God's vicar. You profane sweet song 
By ribald praising of a cobbler's girl, 
Nothing is sacred — 



CECCO 

No, not even Dante! 
Ah, Messer Ox, you jump though at the gadfly. 

[He goes. 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



78 



DANTE 

Why should one strike at feathers with a sword! 
Farewell, good friend, I hasten to my lady. 

FORESE 

Where would you go to seek her? 

DANTE 

At her home. 

FORESE 

Not at her father's house? 

DANTE 

Why, there she dwells. 

FORESE 

You knew not she had wed dei Bardi? 

DANTE 

No. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 

79 

FORESE 

You will find her at his palace by the bridge. 
But you will not go? 

DANTE 

Yes. I shall go at once — 
When I have rested on this bench a space. 

FORESE 

You grasp the stone as if you were grown blind. 

DANTE 

I think I have but now recovered sight. 

FORESE 

Your face is ghastly. Come away with me. 
Red wine will put the courage in your blood. 
There are many other maids as fair as she; 
Time will outwear his charm, she will tire of him, 
And then your chance — 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



80 



DANTE 

Take your hand from my sleeve. 
Is that the house? I shall go seek her there. 

FORESE 

What can you have to say to Beatrice? 
Best come away. There is thunder in the air, 
Across- the hills the wavering, steely rain 
Falls like a curtain. 

DANTE 

I fear not the storm. 



SCENE II 

The hall in the house of Simone dei Bardi. 

Beatrice sits, surrounded by her nine maidens. 



SONG 

hush, for it is raining, 

Slow drops the window staining 

Like tears shed uncomplaining. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



8i 



The birds are twittering sharply, none reposes, 

The messenger of love is here. 
With parted crimson petals nod the roses; 
The urn drips o'er with runnels crystal-clear; 

Spattering the gravel near: 
The hreeze sweet scent discloses, 
Smell the fresh jessamine and heliotrope! 

Long lost and silent, long delays my lover, 

I hear in dreams his step draw nigher, 
The bliss, the Ml of love, the garden cover, 

Echoes alone the strain of my desire. 

Yet far through frost or fire 
Song seeks the desert over 
And heart finds heart beyond the wide world's scope. 
The storm clouds coil and fioat like wraiths forsaken, 

The sobbing tempest catches breath; 
Tell me, dear birds, if love shall ever waken 

Or if he slumbers in the drowse of death ? 

Hark what the thunder saith! 
Soft rain like dew is shaken; 
Spring bringeth love in tears but brings not hope. 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



82 



BEATRICE 

The thunder rolls along between the hills. 
Was that a step that sounded through the rain; 
And now a knocking at the outer door? 
Run, Adonella, call the porter. Run! 

FIRST MAIDEN 

Madonna, the white lightning on the draught! 

BEATRICE 

Stay, little coward. Hark, one knocks like fate. 
Almost it shakes my heart. Lucia, go! 

[Second maiden goes. 
Some one is coming with great need to come. 
Or quick desire to follow in rain and flame. 
The thunder bellowing after. 

[Second maiden returns. 
Who is there? 

SECOND MAIDEN 

Madonna, it is Messer Dante, wet 

And thinner in his damp cloak than a lath. 

[Dante enters. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



83 



BEATRICE 

Sir, you are chill, drenched by the driving storm. 
Bring him some wine, spiced wine. 

DANTE 

I thank you, no. 
My cloak is thick. 

BEATRICE 

Call Messer Simone. 

DANTE 

Madonna- 

BEATRICE 

Stay, not yet, you need not call. 

DANTE 

My errand is with you. 

BEATRICE 

Go then, my girls. 

[Maidens go out. 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 

84 

It is many months since I have seen your face, 
But tidings of your valour came to us. 
I see you shivering. Take the wine. 

DANTE 

I drink 
Of Lethe, the one wine that quenches thirst. 
Surely they brew such liquor here, Madonna 
And you have quaffed wine of oblivion. 
This is not Lethe and I cannot find it. 
Where do you keep it, in what cellarage? 
Beseech you, send, that I may drink with you. 

BEATRICE 

What would you forget, Dante? 

DANTE 

The past, 
But most of all my songs. 

BEATRICE 

Then I must drink; 
Deeply indeed, ere I forget your songs. 



Act 11 Dante and Beatrice 

DANTE 

You gave me poison! 

BEATRICE 

Sir! 

DANTE 

Be not afraid; 
I speak in symbols, merely words and signs 
Of souls, not bodies; not of eartlily death, — 
Poison not to my body, but my soul. 
The pearl I gave you, perfect, exquisite. 
Pure as the moon, with shadowy rose and gold, 
You have dissolved within an acrid draught. 
Here is the song I made you yesterday. 
Then was the golden sun my friend in heaven. 
I was a part of spring among the flowers 
That trembled in the grass; borne on the breeze, 
A wreath of cloud, over dim violet sky. 
I know not the grey world I wander in 
Here, through this vacant day. 

[He gives her the poem. 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



86 



BEATRICE 

[Reads.] Was all my sorrow and loss so close to you 
Dear and great poet, that you wept with me? 
How shall words thank you for this gift of gifts? 



DANTE 

Hark to the rain's innumerable lips 

That whisper of soft mysteries. And now 

The tremour hushes while the thunder calls. 

Your voice shall be the voice of the falling rair 

And mine the thunder. Beatrice, Beatrice! 

How dark it grows. Now for a flash you stand 

Radiant in white fire. Yet you are gone. 

The woman I have sought and followed and found 

Was never here on earth. She wore your form 

And smiled your sacred smile; looked from your eyes, 

Whence Love enshrined pierces the hearts of men. 



BEATRICE 

I do not understand you. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 

87 

DANTE 

Listen awhile. 
When I went forth because you bade me go 
To combat for my country, you forsook me. 
I cannot even say the word — that word. 
You left me. You have given your beauteous flesh— 

BEATRICE 

I cannot hear this. You are distracted, sir. 

DANTE 

You shall not leave me yet. If ever one thought 

Of kindness or of mercy turned toward me, 

If all my songs kindled a flickering spark 

Of pity or of wonder, if my poor life 

Has merit in your eyes, if there is worth 

In me as man, such as the unlettered hind 

Tending his flock might know; then hear me now. 

BEATRICE 

In all Hfe's usage you have been supreme. 
Shall I not hear you in humihty? 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



88 



DANTE 

Look not so innocently, for you knew. 
Forgive me, Bice, if you did not know, 
Now, though I never speak on earth again, 
Though I be spurned, I shall fulfill my song. 
The love that companied you shall waken you, 
And he shall feed you on my flaming heart. 

BEATRICE 

Dante, almost I fear you. 

DANTE 

That is well. 
These singers that like sparrows in the rain 
Chirp amorous ditties, quick from spray to spray. 
These are not like the nightingale, whose cry 
Eternal, is his pain for one lost love. 
Have you forgot the festival of May? 
To my child-eyes you were a miracle, 
The youngest of the angels, your slight form 
Robed in clear crimson, and your face, a pearl, — 
Have you forgot that day in tender spring. 
The boy, your playfellow? 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 

89 

BEATRICE 

Was it yourself? 
Have you remembered even a crimson frock? 

DANTE 

I saw you and the spirit of my life, 
Deep dwelling, hid within my secret heart, 
Trembled and knew the presence of its God. 
Often I stole away to gaze on you 
When you knew nothing, and exultingly 
Forever with me bore the vision of you 
Limned on my spirit, and no other face 
Has made me turn one wandering glance aside. 
The air I breathed was sweet with thoughts of you 
Sleep overtook me conning every charm 
Softly unto myself; you were my dreams. 
My lips before I woke murmured your name. 
I loved you as no woman yet was loved. 
I should have been all yours, eternally, 
Grown glorious and great in the sight of you 
As great trees wax beneath a tropic sun. 
Now I shall pine and wither as in long drouth 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 

90 

When shrivelling branches shed their sallow leaves 
Stunted and desolate. Thief, thief of life, 
You have reft away my spirit's dignities, 
The crown of wisdom, mantle of my peace, 
ChaHce of faith and sceptre of restraint. 
I am dethroned, I shall seek hovels now; 
A doting madman, cheat myself with beads. 
Refuse and straws, calling them gems and gold. 
I shall love many women with little love 
And fire and frost alternate in my blood: 
Fall in strange passions and hot ecstasies 
Pursue lost music in the earth and air. 

BEATRICE 

If you loved righteousness you would be righteous 

And only thus. Not of a woman's love 

Is born the solemn virtue, hope of the world. 

DANTE 

You cheated me, bright wonder of the flesh 
That I have worshipped; I was nothing — only 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



91 

A pitiful creature, mocked and played upon 
And cast aside. 

BEATRICE 

You were my master poet, 
Great and imperishable and girt with visions, 
When I drew near, your immortality 
Flamed round me till my senses dazzled — 

DANTE 

God, 
This is the truth! You love me, Beatrice. 

BEATRICE 

Hush, for one breathing instant, for the wind 
Has sunk, and the rain ceased and the air is still- 
The light and crpng are gone from the pale sky. 

DANTE 

I hear the birds, each fluting to his love, 
That sweetly answers — there is a nightingale 
High in the cypress! There is another flying. 
Now, he will answer far away. You hear? 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



92 



BEATRICE 

There is a voice as well. 

DANTE 

It is Casella — 

BEATRICE 

Pacing the pergola. 

DANTE 

He soothes the storm 
With magic sounds. 

BEATRICE 

I think it is your song. 

CASELLA 

[Withouf] ^Mid mystic measures intricate and sweet 
My dazed thought a perilous passage takes, 

Rapt into rare and unaccustomed ways. 

Alas, my stricken sense no strength essays 
To attain and lay my worship at her feetl 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



I have lost it now. 



93 
DANTE 

BEATRICE 

Hush, he will turn and then- 



CASELLA 

Let censure fall alone on my oblation^ 

Whose rhymes reach not my lady's high degree. 

For mind is sunk in spirit' s adoration, 

And speech may never with such influence move, 
As shall command the harmonies of love. 

BEATRICE 

Do you remember on that long-dead evening 
Casella ended and your voice began 
Remeasuring music, and my father camxC. 
Next day I learned the song— but you had gone. 

DANTE 

My roaming songs, that fled my wintry days, 
Have rested in your heart, sweet lady of spring. 
And has my speech found favour? My heavier words ? 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



94 



BEATRICE 

You spoke the thoughts toward which my spirit strove, 
Nay, even the motions of my hidden heart. 

DANTE 

I was all yours that am forever yours, 
It matters not to pause and ponder thereof, 
We are together. Time is not for us. 
We are eternal and love eternally. 

BEATRICE 

How dark it grows. 

DANTE 

The storm returns amain 
Heavy in purple. A chattering of the leaves 
Shakes all the treetops and a throbbing light 
Quickens and goes. I cannot see your face, 
But your slight form blots on the window's glare 
With every flash. The perfume of your dress 
Stifles me here. Hark to the warring winds 
That beat against the darkness on and on. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 

95 

BEATRICE 

Throw open a lattice: let me feel the air I 

DANTE 

The night is warm: how fresh the garden smells. 
The flowers can teach us all that we should know, 
Whose perfume is the exquisite call of love. 
Will you not tell me why you left me? 

BEATRICE 

No. 
Had you been here, perhaps it had not been. 

DANTE 

Where was this body was a faithful heart 
Quickening for you. 

BEATRICE 

Yet you had said no word; 
No prayer of man to woman; only songs, 
Visions and prophecies and ecstasies. 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



96 



DANTE 

I will say / love you till the constant cry 
Outwear the iteration of the birds. 



BEATRICE 

It is too late. The door is shut to joy. 
I doubted everything when you were gone, 
Myself and you and love. Why did you go? 
Distance does sorry things to human hearts. 
And do you know that like a wave of the sea 
Is every passion in man? Joy, love and grief 
Rise up and swell and break and then withdraw. 
Now you must go. 

DANTE 

Shall I turn to the storm 
And pray the lightning to seek out my heart? 
Listen, my Beatrice: the spinning Fates 
Wove close the patterns of your life and mine, 
They blend and knit harmonious thread to thread 
By strong, immortal fingers intertwined. 
Nor can we ravel a warp of destiny. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



97 



BEATRICE 

No more, sweet Dante. 

DANTE 

Listen to the rain: 
It whispers with soft lips and thunder calls 
And levin writes in fire the word of truth — 
Love hath united us past peradventure. 
Out there across the border only last year 
Paolo and Francesca in Rimini 
Died — but died happy. We have not lived at all. 
Now let us live, and if needs be find death 
In some sweet way together. Come with me. 

BEATRICE 

Bring in the lights! 

[Maidens enter with lights and circle round 
her, place them in sconces and withdraw. 
There is no more to say, 
Seeing you have said your last worst word of me. 
You cannot raise your lids to see my face. 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



98 



DANTE 

I would honour you forever. 

BEATRICE 

Lift up your chin. 
Do you think thus of me? So swiftly false? 
Unfaithfulness is in the deeps of hell 
And treachery to those that love us, worst 
Of the dark crimes peopling the chill abyss. 
What of that man, my honourable spouse? 
Am I not one with him in the sight of God, 
Made so by Holy Church and both our wills? 

DANTE 

But if you love me? 

BEATRICE 

Shall I open a door 
To let foul beasts among our household gods? 
You must go from me, sir, I do not trust you. 

DANTE 

Bice, forgive me. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 

99 

BEATRICE 

Do you weep for that. 
You shall weep bitterer tears for other sword. 
You have slain him through whom all mankind 

towered. 
Who is this creature that will leave my love 
To run with harlots? Who will even come 
To purpose mischief to the woman he loves, 
Luring her toward the darkness? In my love 
Hast thou not said thou followed holiness, 
Growing toward heaven, companioned by the stars? 
Wilt thou forsake me now to give thyself 
Unto foul things that canker and defile 
God's image? Didst thou mean by thy wild words 
That since thou couldst not have thy joy fulfilled 
Thou wouldst forsake all good and turn thy face 
To follow evil, to pursue false visions 
That never pay their promise? Answer me. 
Dajite, thou must confess it. 

DANTE 

Yea. 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



lOO 



BEATRICE 

Alas, 
Let me not see again that face of yours 
Which I have bowed before with reverence, 
And while I live let me not hear the name 
I coupled with the names of saints and heroes. 
Now art thou dead; for this is death eternal: 
Not the mere passing of the mortal breath 
To be with God and leave within our hearts 
Immortal memories, but corrupt death, 
The soul and not the body turned to clay. 
Still droops thy head. Look now upon mine eyes; 
They shall condemn thee. 

DANTE 

Mercy, Beatrice! 

[He faints. 

BEATRICE 

O, dearest head, may I not even lift thee? 
Not cherish thee, fevered and beaten child? 

DANTE 

Above the flood! Hold me above the flood. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



lOI 



BEATRICE 

Be comforted: I hold thee, thou wilt not sink. 

DANTE 

Who are thou, spirit? 

BEATRICE 

Even Beatrice. 

DANTE 

Alas, my life returns in agony. 

My cheek is wet with tears that are not mine. 

BEATRICE 

Thou art born again of water and of the spirit. 

DANTE 

May God be thanked, who hath restored my soul, 
And hath forgiven me as thou forgivest. 
Yet still a voice within me will not cease. 
Deeply I sinned when my flesh spoke to thee. 
But my soul did not sin that called thee mine. 
These are laws written on our hearts, above 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 

102 

The laws that man hath made. Not ever again 
Shall I offend thee, even in my hid thoughts; 
Fear not, my love, there is no earth therein. 

BEATRICE 

Even as thou offerest I accept thy gift. 
There shall be quiet places in our lives 
Wherein the pilgrim spirit, journeying, finds 
Pathways of peace and of humility. 
And there this love of ours shall be a light 
Guiding us to that river whose limpid streams 
Gently shall wash away our stains and tears, 
Assuaging then at last our bitter thirst. 

DANTE 

My poignant loneliness, like subtle flame 
Patiently borne, shall purify the dross. 
Dost thou weep, Beatrice? 

BEATRICE 

Leave me not yet, 
I am not strong. How shall I fill the days, 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 

Vacant, intolerable, until I die? 

We have lost everything; nothing is left. 

DANTE 

Courage is left, gallantly hour by hour 
To serve man and to save, the vivid earth 
Thrilling with song is left; the solemn hills, 
The restless flashing sea of fluctuant waves, 
The silver hosts of the assembled stars. 

BEATRICE 

My poet, thou shalt never be bereft, 
Faring with genius and with liberty; 
But canst thou teach a woman how to live? 

DANTE 

Be thine all-beautiful and blessed self. 

Thy holy eyes are sun-smit emeralds! 

Delight of God, benignant grace is thine, 

None can end ill that once hath spoken with thee. 

All things shall wear away. My bitter life 

Finally shall be as it had not been, 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 

104 

Save that the echo of its singing love 
Shall dwell in music on the winds of time, 
And of the priceless gift of thy great soul 
Nothing be lost that may enrich mankind. 
Thy voice shall summon and thy spirit speak 
Through my lips, one with me eternally. 

BEATRICE 

May God be very near to thee, my Dante. 

DANTE 

He shall be ever nearer while I live. 
I shall ascend to meet thee, Beatrice, 
Through darkness climbing up to greet the dawn. 
Now must I part from you. Before I go 
May I not kiss you? 

BEATRICE 

Never, while I live. 

DANTE 

Forgive me. Will you say / love you? 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



105 

BEATRICE 



No. 



DANTE 

I must die starving then. You are so young, 
In many years to live in many deeds, 
Shall this one hour be lost and be forgot? 

BEATRICE 

I promise, as you have given unto me 

The supreme gift, one last least recompense. 

I must be silent. Impermissible, 

Now, were that word, but ere you come to die 

You shall receive my answer. Rest in this. 

DANTE 

Shall I be satisfied? 

BEATRICE 

Only have faith. [He goes. 

My heart is torn away out of my breast. 
Dante, return! Love — ! 

[SiMONE enters. 



Dante and Beatrice Act II 



io6 



SIMONE 

Did you call? 

BEATRICE 

No, no! 
Leave me a little, I beseech you, sir. 

SIMONE 

Alas, sweet Beatrice, your hand is cold! 

BEATRICE 

Soon I will come to you. [He goes.] Thou seest, God, 

My shame; this horror, love's sanctuary defiled: 

He holds my body that holds not my heart. 

And he to whom my thought incessantly 

Turns, like a plant whose tender leaves seek light, 

Shall never come to illuminate the hours 

That other wastes in darkness; drudging hours 

Of infelicity, that might have been 

Momently glorious, each a blessed thing. 

Father, I know to-day you weep in heaven. 



Act II Dante and Beatrice 



107 

You built my dungeon with a careful hand, 
I should have followed Dante through this world 
Barefoot and happy. I am caught in toils, 
A mastered creature, fettered, stifled, held! 
Rescue me, death, from days that are accursed, 
Wash with thy waters from my mind and heart 
Remembrances of things that are a stain. 
Deliver me, kind messenger of God, 
And fetch me to my Lover amid the stars. 



ACT III 

SCENE I 

Dante's lodgings. He is pacing up and down, 
pausing to write. Forese enters. 



FORESE 

No words for me? 

DANTE 

No words from thee, I pray. 
Dost thou not see I write? Beseech thee, go! 
Stay not a breath of time. Thou breakest the thread 
That held my winged thought earth's prisoner. 
The filament is snapped, the bird is gone! 
Stay if thou wilt or go, sing, laugh or wail, 
Patter thy tedious talk of common things. 
Turn out my larder, gorge thy ravenous maw, — 

io8 



Act III Dante and Beatrice 

109 

I saw thee sniff my pastry long ago. 
Live out thy hfe or die within this room, 
Thou hast done all thy damnable worst on me! 

FORESE 

[Calling from the window. 
His black scrip is unpacked and thrown about 
My ears, there cannot be a single curse 
Or malediction left to fling at you. 

[Several friends enter, among them Cino, 
Cecco and Casella. 

CINO 

Most gentle Dante — 

FORESE 

There is none gentle here! 

CINO 

Dear poet, read us what you wrote but now. 
It was of her to whom your exquisite song 
Rings ever clearer, ravishing our ears, 
A lark that quivers up to praise the morn. 



Dante and Beatrice Act III 



no 



DANTE 



Cino, thou hast a heart, not a dry leaf 

Like that Forese. I will read to thee. 

The joy of June, the plenitude of life 

Is poured from the blue sun-searched firmament, 

Where the majestic clouds like domes of snow 

Pass imperceptibly. The swallows' cry 

Dispelled my dreams before the silver dawn, 

I rose and breathed the warm and perfumed wind. 

And, like a prayer, my song went up to God. 

I am a thing of earth and earthly days. 

Born of the sin and travail of the race. 

Wrought of its dust and tears and bitter blood. 

She is not so, my comforter and my guide, 

A visitant from heavenly shores, the light 

Of distant stars within her eyes, the smile 

Of angels on her lips. My only worth 

Has been my love. I may not think of her 

Without a passion of exceeding praise. 

Today I quaffed a wine of happiness, 

And numbering the gifts of God's good will, 

In that His Beatrice has gazed on me, 



Act III Dante and Beatrice 



III 



By her dear virtue had begun this song: — 
So long and long hath love my life possessed, 
So wonted is become his mastery, 
That even as once he seemed unkind to me, 
Now blissfully he reigns within my breast. 
Thus when his ministers my courage wrest 
Till tremulous the vital spirits flee. 
My face is blanched with the swift ecstacy 
Of utter sweetness on my senses pressed. 
Love gathering over me supreme control. 

Teaches my grievous sighs to utter speech^ 
My lady to beseech, 
To grant again the grace that lifts my soul. 
Thus it befalls when I her face behold, 
Whose fair humility no words have told. 

[While he reads Cavalcanti enters, saying 
with his lips " Beatrice is dead.^^ As 
Dante ends he looks up. 

DANTE 

And here, Hke fierce March wind that slays the flowers, 
Forese burst upon me, rent and tossed 



Dante and Beatrice Act III 

112 

The fragile petals of my blossoming song, 
Which I bewailed. Why do you gaze on me 
With those blank eyes? Who entered while I read? 
Guido! What news? 

[All rise and move toward the door. 
Canst thou not answer me? 
Is Florence threatened? 

CAVALCANTI 

No. No public grief, 
But loss to thee, poor D nte. 

DANTE 

Loss to me? 
What have I God or man could take from me? 
There is nothing mine precious in the eyes of men. 
Only the rich tremble to hear ill news. 
Only the happy are fearful. I have naught. 
Except the glorious lady of my mind. 
Except my Beatrice. Not Beatrice! 
She is not — No, God would not rob the world 
That needs her so. Guido, she is not dead? 



Act III Dante and Beatrice 



113 

CAVALCANTI 



Alas, she is dead. 



DANTE 

*' How dost thou sit alone 
O, city who wert so full of people, — how 
Is she become a widow who was great 
Among the nations! " 

CAVALCANTI 

Idly, day by day. 
Dame Fortune turns her wheel, and who was high 
Serene and radiant, lies low in earth. 

DANTE 

Sorrow has entered to abide with me 
And hand in hand Rancour and Pain draw near, 
And Love comes habited in weeds of black 
Stumbling, tear-blinded. 

CINO 

Thou, whom God made wise, 
Dispel the cloud of death from face and heart; 



Dante and Beatrice Act III 

114 

Since in this dolorous world, dazed and distressed, 
We are haled onward, thou shouldst now rejoice 
That she is safe with God and prays for thee. 

DANTE 

She is not dead. I saw her two days since, 
Perhaps a little pale. She is ever pale, 
She has but swooned. Guido, it is not — ? 



CAVALCANTI 

Yes. 



Dear Dante, — 



DANTE 

Leave me ! If I think with you 
The soul is shrivelled in a fiery tomb. 
Forese, speak! God lives, Beatrice lives. 

FORESE 

My friend, I fear that Beatrice is dead. 

DANTE 

Where art thou gone, O sovereign intellect? 



Act III Dante and Beatrice 



CECCO 

This death is a dullard! If I were but death, 
I would look my father up that hugs his gold 
So tight the florins squeak. Let me go out! 

[He goes. 

DANTE 

Shall I live through my life, day after day, 

Minute by minute, and not see her face? 

It is not possible. Why, I remember 

How soft her lips curled when she smiled at me. 

Shall I forget her slow smile's miracle? 

I shall watch enviously all who die; 

See the door clang behind them, fancy a light 

Whereto they enter, leaving me in cold. 

What can you say to me, Forese? 

FORESE 

Nothing. 
I know the Church could tell you many things; 
I am not wise, I have forgot them all. 
Send for a priest. I never saw, myself, 
One that had died and lived again. 



Dante and Beatrice Act III 

ii6 

DANTE 

Get hence! 
Guido, where is my lady and my love? 

CAVALCANTI 

Her immortality is in our hearts. 

DANTE 

Ring true, pure gold of friendship! Let them dream, 
These folk that cringe before an unknown god, 
The deaf, dumb, blind creation of their hearts. 
The prop they have made to hold their feebleness, 
The shadow cast by their soul's fervid light. 
The image that they follow through the sand, — 
Domed temples, golden over the brown walls, 
Spires of celestial amber shimmering. 
City of many mansions, each a home — 

FORESE 

He is mad! Dear Dante, this is blasphemy; 
Vengeance will fall from God. 



Act III Dante and Beatrice 

117 

DANTE 

What will He do, 
Having wrought out His worst forever on me? 
I bore the agony of my baulked love, 
I set my flame upon His altar, prayed. 
Fasted, grew holy; I took my heavy sorrow 
As from His hand; and now, what has He done? 
Am I not dead? Tell me, when shall I die? 
Let it be soon if any of you have hearts. 
Give me escape from the endless, bitter world. 

CAVALCANTI 

Dante, this is not worthy, no, nor brave. 
Thy spirit should transcend the fury of chance 
And cruelty of death; so shouldst thou grow 
Strong through thy pain, sweet through remembered 
love. 

DANTE 

This love that is our agony and bliss 
Is an illusion. I will avoid the heights 
And lay me in low meadows, weave my crown 
Of thornless blooms. 



Dante and Beatrice Act III 



ii8 



CAVALCANTI 

Desire shall gnaw your heart. 

DANTE 

My heart is stone: I shall not feel again. 

CAVALCANTI 

[To Casella] Cleave his hard heart with the swift 
sword of song. 

CASELLA 

[Sings] Love in my mind a mighty music ivakes 

And yearning unto him my voice I raise 
Impassioned to declare my lady'^s praise. 

DANTE 

Cease, cease! 

FORESE 

Casella, he will die in tears. 

CAVALCANTI 

I bade him sing: no man shall question it. 



Act III Dante and Beatrice 



119 



CASELLA 

^Mid mystic measures intricate and sweet 
My dazed thought a perilous passage takes 

Rapt into rare and unaccustomed ways. 

Alas, my stricken sense no strength essays 
To attain and lay my worship at her feet. 
For who shall soar on seraph pinion fleet 

Weighted with clogs of dull humanity? 
Through mortal lips the vision of blessed eyes 
Seek to immortalize — 

A beauty unbeheld of all that see? 

DANTE 

My will is quiet, my spirit is appeased. 

CAVALCANTI 

Vanquish him, ere he fail of truth and honour. 

CASELLA 

Let censure fall alone on my oblation, 

Whose rhymes reach not my lady's high degree. 
For mind is lost in spirifs adoration, 



Dante and Beatrice Act HI 

I20 

And speech may never with such influence move 
As shall command the harmonies of love. 

DANTE 

I am broken beneath the harrow. Leave me now. 
For I beheve that love shall seek for me 
Through all the distant ways from farthest heaven. 

{They go out. 
Where are my tablets? Let me draw a face, 
An angel's face, with lineaments like hers. 
Angels flame- winged about her; she most fair. 
She strays in glory inaccessible 
To our desirous fancy's utmost flight, 

[Gemma enters, unperceived. 
Removed from sullen earth, cloud-hung with care, 
Removed perhaps from pain-filled thoughts of us. 
Hast thou forgot me in beatitude, 
Bright Beatrice, and thou, sweet, fond Piccarda? 

\He perceives Gemma. 
When didst thou enter? 

GEMMA 

May I — may I — come? 



Act III Dante and Beatrice 



121 



DANTE 



What wouldst thou have? TrembHng and pale, my 
child? 

GEMMA 

I sent the word that Beatrice was dead 

By Cavalcanti, for he loves you best. 

I would not enter while they talked so loud, 

Those rough, unknowing men, but when they went 

Thoughts of your loneliness constrained my feet. 

DANTE 

Why dost thou weep? 

GEMMA 

Dante, I mourn with thee. 

DANTE 

speak not so pitiful lest my heart break. 

GEMMA 

Love sends me to thee that thy soul find rest. 



Dante and Beatrice Act III 



122 



DANTE 

Gentle and pensive face compassionate, 
Thou drawest mine eyes to thee — 

GEMMA 

Thy wasted eyes 
Red-circled as with crown of martyrdom. 

DANTE 

I thank thee for thy pity. Pray thee, go, 
For tears are rising from my heart and yet 
I cannot weep before thee. 

GEMMA 

I will go, 
And may a kindly thought of me abide 
Whispering, " Thou art not alone, one lives 
Who waits, in sorrow for thy misery." [Goes. 

DANTE 

What spirit is this that comes to comfort me. 
Speaking the speech of love? O doubtful breast, 
Now art thou severed with opposing hosts, 



^/^ct III Dante and Beatrice 



123 

Th^ soul and heart at war. Shall I escape 
From so much bitterness and be at peace? 
For my beloved is gone, a torch outblown, 
A vanished star that leaves my heaven obscure; 
Silence encompasses the ended song. 
I am forgotten. If any word or sign 
Could reach across the void to summon me 
I should not faint perhaps. O vacant night- 
Only the gloom to straining ears and eyes! 
She promised me that ere I came to die 
I should receive her answer, know at last 
The heart of her and be therewith content. 
She has forgotten as He whom once I served 
Forgot Piccarda's prayer that my worst need 
Be comforted. I am forsaken of all. 

[SiMONE enters. 

SIMONE 

Is Messer Dante here within? 

DANTE 

Not you! 
Of all men in this city why have you come? 
Go from me, for I know not what I do. 



Dante and Beatrice Act III 

124 

SIMONE 

Talk if you will; wild talking is your trade. 

DANTE 

You come to gloat over my emptiness 
Who all your days were rich and gratified. 

SIMONE 

Now you grow dull; you know I am bereft. 

DANTE 

You taunt me with your happy memories. 

I have been choked, beaten, trodden in the dust, 

Denied the fragments scattered to the dogs, 

Not even crumbs — not even crumbs. O God, 

Thy burning scorn intolerable, has seared 

My outworn heart! 

SIMONE 

You need not cry so loud; 
God hears you not and I hear easily. 



Act III Dante and Beatrice 

125 

DANTE 

You have been glutted with the wine of the gods. 

SIMONE 

Dante, my wife is dead. 

DANTE 

Say not that word! 

SIMONE 

Shall I not name her? Beatrice is dead. 

DANTE 

You had a wife! Have I had anything — 
Anything here but agony? She is dead 
And you are young and she is gone from you; 
You thought you loved her — 

SIMONE 

Silence, raving fool! 



Dante and Beatrice ' Act III 



126 



DANTE 

I am patient of your wrath. You thought you loved 

her. 
I know that it is so. Why are you here? 
Of all the beings peopling the wide earth 
We two should not have met upon this day. 

SIMONE 

She sent me, Dante. 

DANTE 

Sent — but she is dead. 
She thought of me before she died? O speak! 
You will tell me what she said? Forgive me, sir, 
You will not be so cruel to punish me 
By silence for my words? You will tell me? 

SIMONE 

Yes. 
Hush, Messer Dante. You are naught to me, 
And what you say is naught. I will do her bidding. 
She did not suffer long — 



Act III Dante and Beatrice 



127 



DANTE 

Suffered! 

SIMONE 

Not long. 
No remedy was lacking, love and gold 
Squandered their strength — 

DANTE 

You could not give her joy. 

SIMONE 

You are too contemptible to tread upon! 
Can you not hold your peace until I end? 

DANTE 

Nature, not this thy blame, no silver frost 
Nor quivering heat drove this sweet spirit forth 
From thy domain; she was too fair a thing 
To dwell amid the noisome haunts of men, 
Unworthy neighbours to such blessedness. 



Dante and Beatrice Act III 



128 



SIMONE 



When she perceived that her last hour drew on 
She bade me promise that I would come to you, 
When she had died, and bring you unto her 
And let you kiss her once upon the lips. 

DANTE 

My God, forgive me, for her gentle sake 
Who loved me when she died — Thy Beatrice! 
Let me go to her where she sleeps in peace. 
[To Simone] There are no words can thank you. 

SIMONE 

Then attempt none. 
I have fulfilled my promise; let us go. 

DANTE 

Pass on before and I wiU follow you. 

[Simone goes. 
I am not fit, God, to come to her. 
But thou shalt lead my pilgrim steps at last 



Act III Dante and Beatrice 

129 

Through many shadows to the eternal dawn, 
Where she beholds Thy presence evermore. 
A distant music trembles on the air 
While deeper choruses and hymning choirs 
Answer in diapason pure as light, 
And children's thrilling voices carolling 
A silver descant echo over heaven. 
The angels cry Hosannah ! and blow loud 
Their fiery trumpets, and a radiance beams 
Like summer simrise on a dappled sky. 
Behold a golden rose with spreading leaves, 
Ring above ring, the concourse of the saints, 
Exhaling praise like fervid perfume! There 
Is Beatrice, bright in immortal youth. 
Robed in clear crimson, glory in her eyes. 
I shall not turn from thee, O blessed face 
That drew me forth, a slave, to liberty. 
But God shall grant me grace that my poor life 
Persever till I speak in thy dear praise 
Such things as never yet were said of woman. 
Then may my soul have leave to come to thee. 
I see thee smile in welcome. Round thy brow 



Dante and Beatrice Act III 



130 

The splendour from on high reflected weaves 
An aureole: thy prayers ascend for me, 
And my desire and will united seek 
That love that moves the sun and all the stars. 



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